


Any Means

by Sorenello



Series: Andiamo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter marathoning, after 8x13, before 9x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorenello/pseuds/Sorenello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean called Charlie in as if she were the secret to cracking the communication code of his sort-of teenage daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a snippet of a verse that will be put into effect as soon as I iron out the details.
> 
> What you need to know:  
> \- Emma is alive (still part Amazon, fighting her nature to the best of her ability).  
> \- They're all living in the bunker. Sam is the hands-on hunter to avoid freaking Emma out because "Hey, I shot you once" does not a family build. Dean stays to play researcher and watch Emma.  
> \- Cas is not part of this story, but he does play a part in this 'verse.

Emma sat on the couch – arms crossed, legs tucked under her, leaning so hard into the arm she might have started fusing with it. Charlie, taking the teen's silent communication in stride, kept to her own arm. She was more relaxed; one leg tucked, right hand playing absently through her hair. She was supposed to make Emma comfortable talking to her, after all.

 _“... about, I don't know –_ girl _things. Christ, Charlie, what do I do with her?”_

_Dean could imagine the eye roll that garnered._

_“Maybe you could try talking about her like she isn't a new puppy.” The hunter huffed a sigh at her. “I would do a lot of things for you two, Dean, but I don't think this will work like you think it will.”_

_“Please try? I'm beggin' you, I have no idea how to talk to this kid.” Charlie leaned her head against the wall at her back. Nope, the ceiling was still free of miracle solutions. “Charlie?”_

_“Ugh. Fine. There better be butterbeer waiting for me. I'll head out tomorrow morning.”_

Here she was. Two days into the second (third? Second-and-half?) mission involving the Winchesters and absolutely no progress. Charlie almost counted the fact that they were in the same room watching Chamber of Secrets without open hostility as progress, but she tended to aim a little higher.

A glance at Emma showed no movement. Like, weeping angel stillness. It was unsettling, and Charlie expressed her frustration by flopping her head and folded arms onto the arm of the couch. Seriously, of all the traits she could have gotten from her father, his stony expression was it? Typical.

“If you don't want to watch this again, we can find something else.” Charlie nearly jolted upright in her surprise. Emma still hadn't moved except to side-eye the red-head. “You don't need to be passive-aggressive about it if you're bored.” Her eyes moved back to the screen as Harry and Ron smashed into the closed platform gate. Charlie might have imagined a small twitch of her lips to soothe her feeling of uselessness.

“No. No, I really like these. What... um – what do you think of them?” Fracking innocuous socialization with so much fracking pressure - .

“I like them.”

Charlie puffed out a breath in relief. Baby steps.

“I have all of them with me. We could marathon? I've seen them about a hundred times but I love getting people acquainted.” Emma just nodded at her and picked at a thread on the hem of her jeans while Harry dangled out of the Anglia. They finished the film in a silence that didn't nag at Charlie nearly as much. She tried to remember if she had stashed her extra set of books in her car.

Dean walked by in a robe and pajama pants as Dumbledore was canceling exams. He smirked at Emma and thumbed toward Charlie. “Ask her how she feels about Hermione sometime.” The redhead gave him a bitchface to rival Sam's.

“It's a completely healthy appreciation for a literary hero. Also, I'm the one introducing her at all because you fail as a nerd. We're doing a maratho -” a yawn interrupted her, “marathon. Tomorrow, after sleep.”

Dean made a considering face. “Might join you, got nothing to work on tomorrow and a hell of a lot of popcorn Cas stashed in the kitchen.”

Charlie's face lit up. She couldn't remember the last time she had done a proper snack-and-soda movie marathon. This one deserved no reservation. “You did promise me butterbeer - we'll have to mix up some sans alcohol so Emma can share,” She clapped her hands excitedly. “Ooooh, and we can make acid pops and chocolate pretzel wands –“ Charlie stopped at the slightly raised brows of both Winchesters. Emma looked overwhelmed, Dean simply judgmental.

Charlie huffed as she stood to stretch. Hands returned to her hips as she leveled a mock-glare on the hunter. “I happen to know that you get just as into Hogwarts as I do. And you,” her face became just the slightest bit superior, “you are the most judgmental Hufflepuff ever.” Charlie sauntered off toward her room, waving a 'good night' and a grin to Emma over Dean's insistence that he was absolutely a Gryffindor, come on!

She heard Dean and Emma head to their rooms, Dean's “'Night, kiddo,” answered with silence – maybe a wave or a small mouth twitch. She was getting better at those. Charlie fell asleep with her phone on a page of Potter-related party ideas. Emma's education deserved fanfare, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed. Sorry this took for freaking ever!

 “So... what are these supposed to be?” Emma nose was crinkled as she looked over the jolly ranchers, pop-rocks, and suckers scattered on the table.

 

“You remember the old witch with the trolley on the Express?” Emma nodded. “These are one of the things she sells – acid pops. Not really acid, promise!”

 

Charlie's chuckle was cut short by the teenager's expression; it was such an accurate imitation of Dean's , _'Really?'_ face that Charlie's grin came back full force.

 

“Anyway, take whatever Jolly Rancher flavor you like, put it in the baggie and crush it up with -,” she rummaged around the utensil drawer until she pulled out a tenderizer. “- this! Use the side without teeth.”

 

Emma took the tenderizer but was hesitant to take any of the candies. Charlie stopped looking for another utensil to crush her own.

 

“What's up, kiddo?”

 

Her term of endearment was met with the expected scowl and unexpectedly troubled eyes. “I've never had them before. Or suckers. I don't know which ones I like.”

 

“Well, clearly this is an opportunity to eat more candy than is really necessary. Not something you want to pass up.” The redhead winked and unwrapped a sour apple candy, offering it to Emma. Charlie didn't even attempt to smother her laughter at the disgruntled wrinkle of Emma's nose. “There are five other flavors – you're bound to like one of them.”

 

They discovered that blue raspberry was, shockingly, the only flavor Emma could settle with. Charlie continued through her list of recipes the same way; Emma liked watermelon suckers and refused to even try cherry-flavored- _anything_ again. She thankfully enjoyed the butterbeer with a wry grin at losing the argument for the alcoholic version. Watching her try chocolate was like watching someone find enlightenment, but the pretzel rod wasn't met with the same enthusiasm.

 

Dean and Cas had wandered in around the time Charlie was looking for alternatives to pretzels for a wand. ( _“Why is the wand necessary?” “Why is- are you kidding??”_ ) The hunter took it upon himself to offer his stash of black licorice. He watched his daughter take a bite with a somewhat critical eye and seemed unnecessarily pleased when she grabbed two more from the bag to dip into the melted chocolate. Castiel followed behind her with a pretzel while Dean swiped a cauldron cake and nudged Charlie's shoulder.

 

“Hey. Thanks for this.”

 

The redhead smirked and pointed her pretzel wand at him. “No chick-flick moments! But you're welcome. And as soon as they have their wands it's movie time!”

 

Pretzel held in her teeth, she grabbed the steins she'd found for butterbeer, sniffed the pitcher to make sure Emma (or her father) hadn't modified it, and carried them all to the table by the television. The others followed her – Castiel a little wary, Dean and Emma with the same subtle enthusiasm – carrying the various treats they'd worked on all morning.

As Dean fiddled with the DVD player, Emma settled in closer to Charlie. Charlie thought it might have to do with Cas and Dean's proximity; whenever the boys were with them, Emma was even more subdued than she was to begin with. She made herself smaller, burrowed into the seat or wall or wherever she was. It was like watching a rescued kitten all over again. She'd grow out of it sometime, Charlie guessed. Rather, she _hoped_.

 

Finally _Prisoner of Azkaban_ started, Harry hiding under his blanket studying like the biggest dork –.

 

“I thought it was illegal for them to practice away from school.” Charlie met Dean's eyes over a blonde head. He seemed just as surprised at Emma's commentary. “Or is it just that there are no muggles to see this time?” She popped the sucker back into her mouth.

 

“You know... I'm not sure,” Dean mumbled. “That's a good freaking point considering the rest of the kid's Ministry bull.”

 

He didn't look at Emma, but when Charlie did she saw that her normally down-turned mouth was a little less so – definitely not a smile, but softer than a scowl. Charlie smiled to herself.

 

Emma's comments continued throughout the next three films, Dean fielding every one.

 

“ _Wait, why did he change wearing clothes but changed back without them? What, is he running around naked now?” (“Gross. Probably.”)_

 

“ _Dean, is that what dragons actually look like? Can I have one?” (“Absolutely not.”)_

 

“ _They're flying on a starved pegasus. That's not okay.” (“I hear you.”)_

 

“ _Snape is a fucking douche.” (“Language! But yes.”)_

 

When they took a break for real food, Dean and Charlie tried to explain the houses to Cas while Emma watched the baking pizza and pretended not to listen.

 

“He's a Hufflepuff, Dean. Loyalty is like their main trait! That's why you're there isn't it?”

 

“Gryffindor, actually. And come on, he's got all that history shoved into his head – Ravenclaw, hands down.”

 

“You know what, we're getting online and settling this.” Charlie grabbed her laptop out of its bag and brought up the website. “Cas, you first – Emma, we'll get yours after food.”

 

“After food,” ended up being after pizza, a victory dance from Charlie at Cas's 'Welcome to Hufflepuff,' and essentially cringing their way through the last three movies.

 

Emma had fewer comments, keeping her mouth occupied instead with gnawing on her thumb nail. More than a couple times Charlie wondered if maybe the death-ridden end of the series was the best idea for a 'family bonding activity' – probably not, considering the daughter of a monster hunter was also a former cannibal herself. ' _Too late now, you dork.'_

 

The final scene on the train platform made Emma's brow wrinkle and Dean smirk. “Yeah, not my cup of tea, either, Em.” Emma squinted.

 

“Was that a British joke? That was awful.” Dean snorted, and the corner of his daughter's mouth lifted as he launched into a defense of his humor.

 

Charlie kicked him and Cas back into the kitchen with an order to make food and stop whining while she got Emma sorted. The blonde balanced the laptop on her legs while Charlie put the disc back into its case.

 

“You know, Emma,” she looked up from the screen, “I have all of the books with me. If you wanted to borrow them – get the whole story.” Charlie grinned at Emma's raised brows.

 

“I'd like that,” and she refocused on the questions in front of her. Charlie sprawled on the ground while she waited. “Charlie?” She lifted her head. “I got Slytherin.”

 

“Really?” Charlie stood and made her way to the couch. “That's actually surprising.”

 

Emma snorted. “Seriously? That's where all the evil people go, right?”

 

Charlie had been around Dean long enough to notice the tightness of her words under the forced tone of a joke. “Emma, you're not evil.” The girl pursed her lips. “Honestly. Slytherins are... cunning, witty, loyal to a fault – they protect the people they care about. They're not a – a siphon of evil-doers, they just have a terrible reputation for being evil because of their history. I mean, that might fit you a little bit.” She put her palm over her face. “Oh my god, that was stupid. I'm making this worse. Why are you still letting me talk?”

 

After a long silence, Charlie lifted her head to see Emma making an expression that Charlie chose to interpret as, _'Yes, you're bad at this, but you made me smile so there's that.'_

 

“We should probably go see what mess Dean and the angel are making,” Emma said as she closed the laptop and rose from the chair. “Coming, Miss Gryffindor?”

 

Charlie took a few moments to wonder if the last ten minutes had done more damage than good. She put the laptop back into her bag and followed the mild sounds of disgust into the kitchen to find Dean making a burger with pickles and mayo in honor of a Emma's new house (despite her protests). She could already see two ketchup-and-mustard-Gryffindor burgers next to it. She cringed when she noticed Cas was busy putting a piece of black licorice around the outside of his already mustard covered burger.

 

Emma smirked at her when she caught Charlie's eye before grabbing another burger. “Sam is a Ravenclaw, right?” At Dean's nod, she covered it with mustard and unwrapped a handful of blue raspberry jolly ranchers. She arranged them daintily in rows before putting it onto a bun. “For when he comes back.”

 

Dean's grin was blinding, but he was still hesitant as he held a hand out for a high-five from his daughter. When she returned it with the same hesitancy, Charlie smiled down at her plate.

 

_All was well._


End file.
